


Sky pirates and explosions, oh my

by hydrangea



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Future Fic, Steampunk, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 06:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7923607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrangea/pseuds/hydrangea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is an unexpected meeting, badgers drinking tea is startling and old stories are true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sky pirates and explosions, oh my

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WingedFlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedFlight/gifts).



”What in the—Gillian!”

The dust finished settling around the newly kicked+in door. Gillian hefted a rifle - a  _rifle_! - onto her shoulder and blew at a curly bit of hair bouncing off her nose. “Well. Looks like I found you.”

Caspia gave her girlfriend a quick look over. Curls in a ponytail, check; her mum’s painting shirt, complete with a dash of indigo to match the one of Gillian’s nose, check; Caspia’s favorite riding breeches _and_ her riding boots, check. Once she was sure Gillian was more or less fine, she did the next pertinent thing: hugged the living daylights out of her.

“My God, Gillian! How did you get _in_ here? Why do you smell like Uncle Ed’s workshop?” Caspia didn’t ask where Gillian had nicked the rifle, seeing as she herself had two across her shoulder and-- _they were standing on a burning airship._ She grabbed Gillian’s hand as she dashed out the door. “We need to get out of here.”

“There’s a heli-ship thing over here." Gillian overtook her as they crossed out in the main walk-way, keeping Caspia tucked between herself and the wall. She'd gotten mag shoes somewhere while Caspia slipped and slid on her bare feet. “I might have blown a small hole through the hull--they said that you were held by pirates!”

“Blown a--look out!” Ducking under a pipe dislodged from the clutter running along the top of the wall, Caspia risked a moment to look at Gillian as she got Caspia back on her feet. _Her_ Gillian, nicest girl in school, that never rolled up her skirts or suffered a lopsided ponytail or lost a biscuit in her tea, had _blown a hole_ in something.

“They said to use the explosive dust if I couldn’t get on! I thought I was rescuing _you_ –but you don’t look like anyone needing rescue!”

Caspia could give her that.

“It’s a long story.” They reached the hole – the very _large_ hole – blown into the side o the ship. Caspia looked at the aircraft bobbing outside--it did rather look like a helicopter didn't it? She'd never thought of it before. “That’s a Narnian ship.”

“About that -when you told me those fairytales when we were little, I didn’t think that you _meant_ it about the talking animals! I had _tea_ with a _badger_ , Cassie. A _badger_.”

“Made the acquaintance of Glimmerclaw, have you.”

“Who said that you were _held captive_!”

“I was! And then I wasn’t—hold on!”

Gillian had jumped across to the craft as they spoke, firmly anchored against the hull as she helped Caspia across. There were smoke rolling in on them and the deck had begun to feel hot beneath her feet. Caspia went to look over the steering while Gillian sat herself by a heap of rifles at the stern hatch. At least that explained the heavy weaponry she was carrying, Caspia noted.

They pushed off the bigger airship, just in time to see the fire spreading from the passenger tubs to the maintenance corridors they'd come from.

“Uh-oh,” Gillian whispered, looking back.

“I hope that the course you plotted to get here is good, because I’m hitting full speed away from here.”

“It’ll get us to Paravel—hey! Easy on the wheel!”

Caspia righted the ship, kicking her foot against the bottom of the skirt. Stupid thing had nearly tripped her. “Now then,” she said, once she was sure that the ship would take care of itself with only minor input from her, “want to tell me how you came to Narnia?”

Gillian leaned back against the wall and let her leg drop out of the hatch, her other leg firmly keeping her in place. She’d done this before, Caspia realized, just as she had most definitely used that rifle she carried before.

“You told me all of those stories about Narnia, do you remember? About lions and castles and kings and queens.”

“Yes.” Gillian had never said a word to anyone about her telling such wild tales – had indulged her, she’d thought. That Gillian had _believed_ her…

“Well, mum has her own stories that her ‘barmy grandma’ used to tell her when she was a little girl. No one ever took her seriously, but then you started to tell stories like her.”

“Polly isn’t barmy!”

Gillian gave her a look. “ _I_ know that, but she didn’t marry the most accepting person, you know.”

Most accepting person – now there was some mild words to describe Uncle Terry. Caspia would’ve picked far more colorful words.

“Her stories were much like yours though,” Gillian continued, “and when I saw that lion in your room, I _knew_ that you had come here – and I know where grandma keeps those rings.”

Gillian had seen Aslan. Caspia adjusted the wheel minutely to give her a chance to think. Aslan had—well. _Manipulated_ was the only word that she could come up with—Gillian into Narnia. Caspia … wasn’t sure what she thought about that. Her dad had never been the most religious of Narnian friends—and neither had her mum – they were far too scientifically inclined for that. Aunt Lucy had an amazing amount of faith in Aslan on the other hand; Aunt Susan had none. Caspia herself was somewhere in the middle—but there wasn’t time for that now.

“So you used the rings,” Caspia surmised.

“They put me down on the Paravel,” Gillian confirmed. “On one of the aft wings.”

Caspia blanched. “You could’ve fallen.”

“The lion lead me straight off it,” Gillian assured her. “Told me to believe in him. So I did. Do you think it was Aslan?”

“Most likely—hey, there’s a ship coming in behind us. I can’t tell from what flag he’s flying, but maybe—“

The bang from Gillian’s rifle nearly deafened her.

Caspia scrambled for the navigator’s hat to put on, pulling the ear protector down sharply. The wheel turned without her, sending them sideways. Gillian shouted in surprise, but another bang assured Caspia that she was still onboard.

“Hold on!” She swung the wheel back to where she wanted it, then hooked her foot over the half-broken chair behind her and dragged it over. “Tell me where to go!”

“As fast as you can and out of here!” Gillian yelled back, and then followed it with a curse that Caspia recognized from her own repertoire. “And hold her steady! I can hit them if you just do that!”

Easier said than done, Caspia thought, but nevertheless did as asked. They needed to get to back to Paravel after all, and she needed to get Gillian to safety. Get them both back to safety. Aunt Susan would _kill_ her if something happened to her favorite "niece" and not even Mum would be able to protect her, even though Tirian had given her all those fencing lessons.

But, in all honesty—Caspia grinned. “I’m glad you’re here, Gill!”

“Love you too, you daft girl!” Gillian shouted back. “Now get us out of here!”

 


End file.
